Over the sea
by Cookie Seller On The Dark Side
Summary: Over the sea, there lay an island.On that island a witch named Circe lived, and one day the giant Chrysaor offers her two more assistants and she accepts.But when she finds out her new assistants are outlaws..and when their only known surviving friend escapes her blood being spilt,and a stranger arrives at the island, only then do Piper and Hazel realize what trouble thy're in...


_**Have you ever**__**?**_

_**Have you ever felt the fear?**_

_**The pain, the anguish and worry?**_

_**Have you ever known you're alone?**_

_**With help not in a hurry?**_

_**Have you ever guessed your fate?**_

_**The death, the loss, the melancholy?**_

_**Have you ever felt the confusion?**_

_**An idiotic act of folly?**_

_**Have you ever feared to to ask the question?**_

_**Or known that fortune will not follow?**_

_**Have you ever regretted a situation?**_

_**Because now you feel the sorrow?**_

_**By Grace Maria Cahill.**_

"The boy is of no use to me," Chrysaor said. "But we have an understanding with Circe. She will buy the women- either as slaves or trainees, depending on their skill. But not you, lovely Annabeth."

Annabeth recoiled. "You are _not_ taking me anywhere."

Percy's hand crept into his pocket. His pen had appeared back into his jeans. He needed only a moments distraction to draw his sword. Maybe, if he could take down Chrysaor quickly, his crew would-

"Oh and don't think of escape," Chrysaor told them, his eyes focused on Percy. "Because we have back-up."

Annabeth stared at him, her eyes calculating what these 'back-ups' could be. Finally, she couldn't hold the question in much longer. "What do you mean by 'back-up'?" She asked, raising her eyebrow.

Chrysaor smirked, at least, that was what Percy _thought_ he must be doing under that grotesque golden mask of his.

"Why, my dear Annabeth," he said in triumph. "Did the famous Jackson's side-kick not imagine back-up from Gaia's most trustworthy hand?"

"I am not a side-kick." Annabeth muttered under her breath.

"Yes of course," Chrysaor said distractedly. His eyes tracked back to Percy. "As I was saying, most of the cyclops cummunity offered a hand. The hyperboreans. And last but not least," he put on a wicked grin. "The ipotane."

Annabeth took a step back. "Horse men?"

Chrysaor's grin widened, and he nodded, his mask bobbing up and down.

Annabeth looked like he had smacked her in the face, she went over to Percy and muttered in his ear: "Χείρων ήταν ipotane μισό, τον Περσέα. Μου είπαν ότι είναι βίαια, άγρια , σαδιστική και θανατηφόρα. Δεν έχουν καμία αδυναμία, εκτός από τους- ******"

In the blink of an eye, Chrysaor had his golden sword at her throat. ''Do. Not. Move. A muscle.''

Annabeth let a deep growling noise come from her throat, she spluttered as the sword was removed from her neck. ''And why would we listen to you?''

Chrysaor laughed, ''because,'' he said gesturing to the entire ship. ''All of this is mine,'' he sneered at Jason's angry expression. ''And that includes all of you!''

At Piper's astonished gasp, a drunken-looking Hazel opened her eyes and moaned. "Ugh."

_Why is the world upside-down?_

She clutched her dizzy head and groaned as she watched two Percy's try to disarm Chrysaor- and failing. Double Percy was watching Chrysaor, appalled at his failure, and in awe at the older man's swordsman skills. Double Percy gawped and took a step back, putting a protective stance in front of Annabeth.

Hazel felt her eyes widened, and she scuttled backwards, tripping over her own feet.

She swung her head around wildly, looking for something to help. She then noticed a Chinese-baby face and grinned.

_Frank._

She watched as he stumbled around, vainly attempting to be agile and silent. His blue pajamas looked so cute on him... Hazel felt her heart skip a beat. She remembered how she found a book of Franks', containing:

_Hazel Zhang._

_Frank+Hazel._

_Frank Levesque._

_Hazel+Frank._

Frank was just so sweet. The way he made home-made presents and gave her them at random times-

Hazel almost screamed then, her head was spinning and if this was an cartoon, little cuckoo birds would be flying circles around her head. She felt herself falling into memory...

_"Hazel, eh, hi?" Frank had came in at an awkward moment. Hazel had been staring at Sammy's old picture. Realizing he hadn't seen it, she shoved it under her pillow._

_Hazel was lying on her bed. Her purple one-piece PJs were quite childish with teddy bears plastered over them. But, all due things considered, Hazel could imagine she needed an extended childhood._

_"Yes, Frank?" She asked, adjusting her pillow so that the photo's edges didn't stick out so much._

_"I, er... I got you somethingIthoughtyoumightlike." He burbled._

_Hazel looked at him blankly. "Pardon?"_

_"Uh, here." He said, thrusting a hurriedly wrapped parcel into her hands._

_Hazel took a closer look. She glanced back at Frank with a blush. The wrapping was a light-pink, with little hand-drawn love-hearts covering it. A red ribbon kept it up. It all-in-all was an excited breath, she opened it.  
_

_She began crying. The last time she had gotten such a love-filled present was from her father. Her last birthday. 17th of December, 1942._

_The present itself was lovely. A small portrait of her. The girl was gorgeous. She looked African American, with long, curly cinnamon brown colored hair and hazel golden eyes which looked like fifteen karat gold. She was marked with a glyph, the letters SPQR, and one stripe for the one year of service. She thought to herself how much more beautiful Frank made her seem. Did she really look that pretty in Frank's eyes. Surely Piper was nicer, or Annabeth or Reyna. But FRank had chosen her, and a firey pride as bright as her golden eyes lit up in her heart._

_She loved Frank. And he loved her back._

Hazel felt herself being shaken, she didn't even realize she had opened her eyes when she did- it was so dark.

Piper's voice began whimpering, sniffing noises along with a large amount of hyperveilating was added. "Hazel," she cried out, agony visible in her voice.

Hazel didn't want to ask, but she did albeit the consequences. "Where are we Piper? What's wrong?"

"I don't kn-kn-know..." She spluttered and Hazel could tell she was crying. "Bu-u-but," she hiccuped, and croaked in a miserable voice: "Jason's dead."


End file.
